by Drew Black
Twenty minutes wasn't too bad, she thought, what could possibly happen in twenty minutes? Philippa relaxed a little.
"Oh, it's a four cylinder, what a lovely beast." the safe-guy said standing back and admiring it with a smile on his face. "This takes me back; they just don't make them like this anymore." He ran a hand over the safe's surface as though he was caressing a woman.
Just get on with it, Philippa thought as she smiled and nodded at him.
"A nice cup of tea would go down a treat love."
Oh my god, next he'll be asking for cake and biscuits - still smiling.
"And I wouldn't turn my nose up at a digestive, if you have any?"
Twenty minutes, if I'm not careful, this guy's going to drag this out all afternoon. "Do you take milk and sugar?" Philippa asked trying hard to disguise her apprehension.
"Yes, milk, four sugars please love." safe-guy said kneeling down and pressing his ear against the safe's door.
Are you sure you don't want me to go the whole hog and pour the tea straight into the sugar bowl love! Philippa thought as she descended the stairs. Come on, get a grip Philippa she told herself, he's only being friendly. She stopped in her tracks, halfway down the stairs, had she just heard the sound of tyres on gravel? She ran the rest of the way down the stairs and into the lounge - nothing. Phew!" she put her hand to her chest and sighed a deep sigh of relief. She came back into the hall and headed towards the kitchen. What would she say, she thought worriedly, if he did turn up now? How the hell would she explain this one away. She couldn't get away from saying he was a guy from work, jack could check. She could always say he was a plumber, that sounded more plausible, and she could always arrange for a bill to be sent. That's better, she thought, now she was thinking constructively. Afterall, this was small fry in comparison to having her leg broken. As the kettle slowly began to come to life, she resisted the urge to go back in the lounge and take another look out of the window. A decision which turned out to be a terrible mistake.
Jack was annoyed with himself; he'd forgotten the proofs for the mill's new line. Maybe you really are taking on too much, he thought has he raced home. The prospective customers were due in thirty minutes. He was sure he could make it back in time, if he put his foot down. "Come on you stupid old fucker!" he shouted at an old man who was taking his time turning a corner. He checked his watch - two minutes past twelve. He told himself to chill out, Christine would keep them entertained, if he was a few minutes late. However, that wasn't the point was it, no, if there was one thing he detested in business, it was people being late for appointments, it just smacked of unprofessionalism. He had to calm down though, the last thing he wanted was for Philippa to see him flustered. He slowed his speed as he approached his house, and let the gates open fully before entering his drive. He got out of his Jag, slammed the door and took a deep breath.
Philippa heard a car door slam and thought for one moment that her heart had actually stopped. It was Jack, she just knew it was. What the hell was he doing home at this time, he was supposed to be entertaining some clients. Jesus, they must've cancelled, she just couldn’t believe it. A blind panic coursed through her whole body. She crazily saw the rest of her money going up in smoke, but maybe that was the least of her worries. She saw Jack and Quilter ranting at one another, she saw herself being punched and kicked. Warn the safe-guy! her mind screamed. Philippa went to shout but heard Jack's key in the front door lock. It's too late, she thought as she ran out of the kitchen and into the hall, just as the front door opened. She slowed her stride. Her body felt limp, as though somehow it had been disconnected from her brain. "Ay-ah Jack, are you home for the day?" she heard herself saying.
"No, I've just come back to grab some paperwork, that's all." he said running up the stairs. He smiled at her and gave her a peck on the cheek as he passed her in the hallway and started his ascent to the second floor.
"Do you fancy a brew, I've just... Argh!" she screamed clasping the top of her leg.
Jack came running back down; "Are you alright Philippa?" he asked with genuine concern.
"Oh My God, it's my leg, I've really hurt it." she said.
Jack took hold of her and helped her into the lounge where he lowered her gently onto the sofa.
Philippa grimaced; "I'm sweating," she said, "Ooh, that was painful, I think it was just a twinge though. It's not where the break was, it's the muscle in my thigh. I thought my leg was going to give way."
"Listen Philippa, I'll call the doc, get him to come and have a look at you. If I didn't have this stupid meeting, I'd stay and look after you myself."
"I'll be okay in a minute Jack, honestly. You get off to your meeting. If it's not right in half an hour, I'll give him a ring, I promise."
Jack smiled at her, "You'd better," he said, "I just need some papers from my study."
Philippa gave him a painful smile in return. I just hope old man clampet up there heard all the commotion, Philippa thought. She was beginning to feel feint, knowing her look, he was probably hard of hearing. She'd have to get her story ready, in case Jack found the guy. God, she wished she'd told safe-guy about the plumber thing.
"Philippa!" Jack shouted out.
Oh no, please God, he's mending the heating, that's the only thing she could think of. Jack came rushing downstairs. Don't feint, she told herself, whatever you do, don't feint.
"Philippa." Jack repeated walking back into the lounge.
"Yes?" she answered wanly.
"Whatever you do, don't do any cooking."
"Pardon me?"
"I'll ring Ray, and get him to cook us a takeout, anything you fancy?"
Philippa shook her head, "I'll let you choose" she said, just about managing a smile.
"Okay, promise me, if your leg doesn’t feel any better, you'll give Ian a ring." Jack said checking his watch.
"I promise."
Jack went over to her and kissed her on the forehead. "Do you want a blanket?
"No! I'm sorry, I'm just a bit shaken, no, I'll be fine in a few minutes, honestly. I know you're in a rush, so, you get going."
"Okay, I'll see you later."
"Bye, I hope your meeting goes well."
"Thanks." Jack replied.
12
The safe-guy handed Philippa a piece of paper with the safe's combination written on it. "Right love, I'll be off," he said grinning that inane grin of his, "that was a bit of a close call, but everything came out sunny-side up in the end."
"Yes, it did." she replied. Philippa opened the front door and let the safe-guy out. She watched him walk out of the driveway, and the gates clunk too behind him before sinking onto the foyer's floor and crying. She remained huddled behind the door for a long time crouched in the foetal position. When she eventually got up, her leg ached, but this time it was for real. After hobbling around for five minutes, she determined she was fit enough to climb the stairs. She wanted to take a bath and make herself look presentable because she'd decided that tonight was the night when Jack Davies was going to get to know her just a little bit better.
As Philippa lay in the bath, she began to feel relaxed for the first time that day, for the first time in the last few days, in fact. She wasn't dreading the forthcoming evening, on the contrary, she was quite looking forward to it. Not because she fancied Jack, although she had to admit, she had screwed a lot worse. It was more the fact that sex was her territory, what she did best. Snooping around on people and feigning injury wasn't really her thing, but it never ceased to amaze her how men, high profile men even, just turned gaga when she went to work on them. She'd got this far, she'd done the hard part, she knew that to get her shot at financial freedom, she just had to keep it together. Jack had turned out to be nothing like she’d imagined. She'd expected a pompous arrogant shit, or someone like Quilter, himself, perhaps, but he wasn't like that at all, he'd really tried to save that dog, and when he touched her, it was because he was trying to help her, not just trying to cop a feel. She pursed h
er lips, she mustn’t get complacent though, or even too relaxed with him. No, just one slip, and she might blow more than just the bulk of the money. God, she wished this was all over, when it was, she was going to take a foreign holiday, what the hell, she may even go and live abroad. She closed her eyes and imagined she was lying on some tropical beach, she could almost hear the surf, and feel the sun on her face.
By the time she'd dressed in a casual jumper and skin-tight velour trousers, she felt much better than she had done earlier in the day. In fact, all the earlier tension felt like a distant memory. She cleaned her teeth and brushed her hair before watching the sun begin to set from the kitchen's veranda as opposed to her own. Then on an impulse, she decided to go down into the garden. The air was a little chilly, but she didn't mind, it was a tonic, the bath although relaxing, had made her feel drowsy. She walked, arms folded, around the garden's perimeter. She discovered that the foliage that covered the top of the wall was simply camouflage for steel spikes that were set into the wall's concrete. What the hell is he scared of, Philippa thought, it was nothing to do with Quilter, she felt sure about that. With a woman's touch, this garden could be made to look truly beautiful, it was quite apparent that Jack didn't dabble himself. Oh, the lawn was neatly mowed, and the hedges were tidy enough, but the garden had no life to it. The foliage atop the wall was the only plant life visible. What a shame, she thought, as she neared the two oak trees at the bottom of the garden. She kept a keen eye out for the squirrels and was surprised to see one looking directly down at her. However, it disappeared in a flash. As she made her way back to the house, she checked her watch, it was almost seven o'clock, she hadn't expected him to be this late. She slid the kitchen's veranda door too and engaged the lock, she heard the front door go; "Jack is that you?" she called out.
"Yeah, how's the leg?"
Shit, she'd totally forgotten about her relapse. "It's much better, thanks." she said starting to lay the kitchen table.
Jack walked through into the kitchen, "What did I tell you about resting that leg? That's why I got us this." he said smiling and placing the brown paper carrier bag onto the work surface next to the sink. "Have you spoke to Ian?" he asked.
"No, I didn't want to bother him." she replied looking distinctly sheepish.
Jack shook his head, "What am I going to do with you," he said loosening his tie, "go and put your feet up, I'll sort this lot out."
"No, honestly, I'll stay and help, I would've got things ready earlier, only I fell asleep."
"That's an order Miss Marsh. I may not have had the time to look after you this lunchtime, but I'm going to make up for it this evening.”
Philippa laughed; "Okay," she said, "you've persuaded me.”
"God, Philippa, you can hardly walk." Jack said observing her gate.
"No, I'm fine, it's just a bit stiff, that's all." she said leaving the kitchen.
"First thing in the morning, I'm ringing Ian Berkley." Jack called after her. He wouldn't be too happy about being called out on a Saturday, Jack thought, but so what? It's about time some of these hangers on started earning their money. Philippa looks nice tonight Jack mused as he poured them both a glass of wine. Ray had really pushed the boat out with the take-away. He decided to grab a quick shower, he would stick the food in the oven for ten minutes when he came down. Jack took Philippa her drink and headed upstairs.
They sat down to Chicken Chasseur, Ray had prepared it personally for them on the condition that he and Gill got to meet Philippa, although Jack omitted that part of the story.
"You seem to know everybody in this town Jack?" Philippa said popping a fork-full of food into her mouth.
Jack shrugged, this was delicious, he thought, he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed a meal as much. "I've grown up here Philippa, that's all."
"Yes, a lot of people have grown up around here, but not many of them could get a restaurant owner to personally cook them a meal for free."
Jack paused, he was going to tell her about Ray's little proviso, but instead he said; "Ray and I go back a long way, and his wife Gill, we all went to school together."
Philippa smiled, " How did your meeting go?" she asked, immediately reprimanding herself, she'd deliberately set out not to ask any probing questions tonight, however, the habit was a difficult one to break. You're beginning to sound like a wife, she thought.
"Oh, it was okay, I thought the order would be a bit more substantial, but I'm not complaining. It'll helps to keep the wolf from the door."
Philippa laughed.
"What's up?" Jack asked with a smile.
"Nothing," Philippa replied, “it's just that you looked so serious when you said that last bit."
"What, it keeps the wolf from the door?"
Philippa nodded.
"I love using sayings, me and Tom used to use them all the time, it was sort of a game we played." Jack said looking down at his food.
Philippa topped up Jack's wine glass, whilst Jack was finishing off his meal. Gosh, he doesn't half eat quickly, she thought realising she was barely halfway through her own.
"You don't seem to talk about Manchester much," Jack said, "do you miss it?"
"To be honest Jack, I don't miss it at all. I should've moved out years ago, but it's like you said the other day, you wake up one morning, and wham you're twenty-seven. I'm glad I decided to move up here mind, and I'm glad I met you." she paused, “I wouldn't want to go through the accident again, obviously, but I've never felt happier in my whole life than I feel right now.”
Jack looked at Philippa for several seconds, "That's a nice thing to say." he said finally. "Please excuse me a second, whilst I nip to the loo."
God, she'd laid that on a bit heavy, Philippa thought, but it was just how it had come out. In fairness, it was partly true because she did feel happy in his company. It was just typical, that the first decent guy she'd come across in years was someone she'd agreed to sell down the river. But not tonight, she thought. No for one night at least she was going to make him happy.
After the meal Jack insisted on doing the washing up, and as Philippa relaxed on the sofa, she felt decidedly guilty. When he'd finished, Jack came into the lounge and flopped in his easy chair. Philippa twisted around on the sofa to look at him, "Thank you for every ... Argh!" she cried.
Jack sat bolt upright.
This time the pain in Philippa's leg was for real, it must've been on account of being crouched in the foyer for so long she thought as she writhed in agony. "Argh, Jack rub my leg quickly, it's cramped up again."
Jack knelt beside her, "Where abouts?" he asked feeling a little awkward.
"My right thigh, quickly!"
Philippa squirmed and her face contorted with pain as Jack massaged her thigh. He could feel that the muscle there had tightened up, but as he worked on it, it slowly began to loosen. It had been so long since he'd any form of physical contact with a woman that as he massaged the pain out of Philippa's leg, he found himself becoming aroused.
When the pain had subsided Philippa let out a shuddering sigh of relief. “I think it's gone." she said looking up at him."
Jack suddenly realising where his hands were, removed them immediately. Philippa shook her head slowly and pulled him back towards her.
13
Next day, it was noon before Jack got up, it had been a long time since he had slept in so long. He spotted Philippa in the garden from his bedroom window and felt a pang of guilt towards Jane for spending the night with another woman. What was she doing looking up in the trees, jack thought running both his hands through his hair. He yawned heavily and headed towards the bathroom. He couldn’t remember ever enjoying sex as much as he had the previous evening, and this brought a stronger pang of guilt. Philippa had made him feel like he had never felt before, and as he showered the realisation dawned on him that his life-force had been completely restored.
"Ay-ah Jack." Philippa said as she entered the kitchen via its veranda doors. "I didn't t
hink you were ever going to get up."
Jack nodded as he munched on his cereal. "I know," he said licking milk from his fingers, "it's years since I've slept in that late."
"It must've been all the exercise you had last night." Philippa said squeezing the back of his neck.
You're not kidding Jack thought with a smile; it must've been three a.m. before they finally got some sleep. "You'll have to get cramp more often." he said turning around.
Philippa smiled.
"How is your leg, by the way?"
"it's a bit tender, thanks, but it's okay."
"Do you fancy going out for a drive later?" Jack said finishing off his cereal and letting his spoon clank in the empty bowl.
"Yes, I'd like that. Listen Jack, last night was wonderful, but I don't want you to feel that because of what happened you ... I don't really know how to say this. That you owe me anything."
Jack looked up at her, "Thanks for that," he replied, "since Jane died, life’s been a struggle. A lot of the time, it's been an effort just to get through the day, but since I've met you, I've started to enjoy myself again. One thing I have learned from Jane's death, is that life is short, and it can be snuffed out in the blink of an eye. I meant what I said the other week, about you staying as long as you wanted Philippa, but it's up to you. I don’t want to pressurise you into anything that you’re unsure about.”
Philippa blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek, "Oh God," she said, "I'm not normally this emotional." she quickly wiped the tear away. " I want to stay Jack, I really do." she said laughing through her tears.
Jack got to his feet and held her. They started to kiss, first tenderly and then more passionately.
14
Quilter stood in front of the syndicate's entire membership discussing the feasibility of an operation in Europe with them. The operation would be conducted in a country that Britain had no extradition treaty with. In short, he was proposing Jack's idea.
Jack looked at Gerald who shrugged. Where the fuck has this come from, Jack thought, surely, it couldn't be a co-incidence, could it? It was possible, but Jack doubted it. But how could Quilter have got wind that this was going to be part of his election manifesto? Jack vaguely took in the audience’s reaction which seemed more positive than negative. Jack looked over at Gerald again, who from the look of him was scrutinising the audience’s reaction himself. Surely, it couldn't be Gerald, but unless this was some truly amazing co-incidence, it had to be him because he'd not breathed a word about the Spanish operation to anyone else. No one apart from Gerald had even been to his house, for fuck sake. Well no-one else apart from Philippa, that was. Jack shook his head, Philippa? No, it couldn't be her, she didn't even know any of the Burnley Boys. Or did she? Had someone got to her, offered her a shed load of money, money for information? But all his private stuff was kept locked away. Well, most of it anyway. He wrecked his brain; could he remember leaving anything as important as this out on his desk? The truth was, he didn't know, not for sure, but it wasn't beyond the realms of possibility, was it? Unless she had the combination to the safe, but how the fuck would she have gotten that, it wasn't written down anywhere? Oh Christ, she could be at home this very minute feverishly copying confidential documents, he felt sick. He wanted to leave the meeting immediately but resisted the urge. However, he would wrap the meeting up at the earliest opportunity. No one would believe him that this was actually his idea, even with Gerald's backing. No, ne amended, especially with Gerald's backing, he was his fuckin' deputy, when all was said and done.
